


Best Laid Plans (Or, that time when Jemma tries to hide from an ex-HYDRA Assassin)

by ElentariR



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/M, First Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-13 01:23:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7132433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElentariR/pseuds/ElentariR
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma knew that hiding from a super-soldier master assassin was a completely preposterous idea. There was really no point to it at all. But Jemma Marie Simmons was never one to back down from a challenge, no matter how mad it was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Best Laid Plans (Or, that time when Jemma tries to hide from an ex-HYDRA Assassin)

**Author's Note:**

> Because why not?

Jemma knew that hiding from a super-soldier master assassin was a completely preposterous idea. There was really no point to it at all. But Jemma Marie Simmons was never one to back down from a challenge, no matter how mad it was.

It was all Skye’s fault, really, that Jemma was crouched down in the supply closet behind a large metal crate with not even a flashlight to keep her company. Ideally she would have her tablet and tea, but she had no time for such luxuries when she had made her rather hasty retreat from her lab. She sighed and leaned her head back against the cool metal. She closed her eyes. Maybe if she wished hard enough, she could erase the past hour.

Probably not.

Such a shame, really. The day had started off so very well, too, before it had gone completely to pieces. She’d made a lovely breakfast and had made a major breakthrough in her research (although she had forgotten to eat lunch, but that sort of thing happens when scientific genius juices were flowing – happens all the time). The team had been on a routine mission of routing an old HYDRA base. And even that was going smashingly. Until they stumbled across an old booby trap. There were no fatalities – thank God – but Bucky’s prosthetic arm was badly damaged and he had a bullet lodged in his right femur. Agent May had largely escaped injury – Bucky had been standing in front of her and took the brunt of the trap – but her right arm had needed tending. Agent Mack was missing a piece of his ear, but was in tip top shape otherwise. Skye was uninjured. It could have been worse, but Bucky noticed the trap for what it was in just the knick of time. As it was, they all came back alive.

Jemma was standing in the lab when Bucky stumbled in. He, of course, had stubbornly refused assistance from both Agents May and Mac, insisting that he could walk himself even though his face contorted with each step. He had received a vicious tongue lashing from Jemma for his stupidity, though she doubted he listened to a word she said. Men. But that was the first time Bucky had returned from a mission truly injured. Her heart had stuttered dangerously before restarting at a precarious rate. Her hands trembled and her breath came at a rate higher than usual.

She was afraid. Worried and afraid.

The bullet had been removed from Bucky’s leg with little trouble and she patched him up quite nicely. May and Mack were far better patients than Bucky, and they went on their way after Jemma’s ministrations. Fitz was able to patch Bucky’s arm with ease while Jemma was haunched over Bucky’s leg. Afterwards, Bucky and Jemma were the only ones left in the lab. Skye had summarily ushered everyone out, citing one reason or another why they were needed _elsewhere_. Jemma should have seen it coming. Skye knew how Jemma felt about Bucky. Skye always knew things. It was really quite problematic sometimes.

“I’m okay, Jem.” Bucky had spoken so softly and sweetly, and he touched her arm so gently that she had just about broken down in tears on the spot. That, of course, would not do. “It’s really just a scratch. I’m okay.” Jemma had nodded and turned away. She busied her hands by cleaning up the workspace, conveniently with her back to Bucky. That man was infuriatingly exceptional at reading micro-expressions, and she simply couldn’t risk him reading hers.

“Yes, of course!” Jemma had chirped. It was easier to lie when he couldn't see your face. Bucky merely chuckled.

“You, doll, are a terrible liar.” Bucky teased. The rustle of fabric caused Jemma to whirl around – running right in to Bucky’s very solid, well-formed, _wonderful_ body.

“James Buchanan Barnes, you sit back down this instant.” Jemma ordered sternly, poking his chest with a pert finger, her left hand firmly planted on her waist. She leveled him with her best glare. Bucky raised an eyebrow and grinned. Bloody super-soldier. She bet if she hit his bum leg it would wipe the smirk off his face. Not that she could ever bring herself to intentionally cause him such pain.

Jemma inhaled deeply and drew herself up with as much arrogance as she could muster. “I will have you know that I am a...terrific liar.” Bucky seemed to loom over her, but she would not be daunted.

“Is that so?” Oh, but his voice was deep and there was something in his tone that made Jemma’s eyes widen and her heart rate accelerate. And he was staring down at her in a way that Jemma would almost call – dare she say – lustful. It was almost as if he was...flirting with her. And that, of course, was utterly ridiculous.

But there was a challenge in his eyes. And it was that challenge that sent Jemma diving over the cliff of insanity. Without thinking, Jemma pushed herself onto her tiptoes, wrapped her arms around his neck, and pressed her lips to his.

The kiss was quick and altogether chaste, but it was a kiss nonetheless. Later, Jemma knew she would find humor in the stupor into which she had sent Bucky and his dumbstruck expression, but at that moment all she had felt was panic. Jemma bolted from the room like her hair was on fire, as her mother used to say. She thought she may have heard Bucky call her name, but she didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop.

And so Jemma found herself hiding in the supply closet, where she fully intended to remain for the foreseeable future. Her lack of means of communication and tea were deplorable, but she comforted herself with the knowledge that she would not lack for food. Although the longer she sat under the shelving unit, the more she realized that the lack of facility would be a larger problem. Hydration would be her enemy.

Jemma froze when she heard two pair of footsteps outside the door. “I swear, I haven’t seen her. Neither has Fitz.” There was a low growl in response. Skye and Bucky. Jemma winced. One pair of footsteps continued down the hall. Skye’s by the sound of it. Bucky had a more forceful stride.

“Damn.” The curse was faint, but audible. Jemma shrunk further into the corner.

Jemma’s heart just about leaped out of her chest when Bucky wrenched the door to the supply closet open and turned on the light. She had forgotten about the light. Even the best laid plans went awry, and this was not her best plan. Jemma drew her knees in further to her chest and rested her head on their tops. The door shut.

And suddenly the crate was gone, pushed easily to the side, leaving her fully exposed. Jemma held her knees in as tightly as possible and didn’t look up. Maybe if she played dead…

“There you are.”

Playing dead – another preposterous idea. She really needed to get her thoughts together.

Jemma slowly looked up. She painted a cheery smile on her face. “Oh, Bucky, how lovely to see you! I was just… That is to say, I was feeling a bit peckish after conducting a very thorough inventory of the supply closet, so I thought I would take a bit of a nap.”

Bucky’s facial expression was unreadable, but she received the distinct impression that he was hurt. Although he was kneeling down, thus putting further strain on his wounded leg. Jemma frowned as she eyed the bandage. “You’ve pulled your stitches.” Bucky snorted.

“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you’ve been searching the Bus high and low for the love of your life.”

“Well, I told you that you shouldn’t be walki...” Jemma trailed off. Bucky’s sass distracted her from the most important part of his sentence. Her eyes widened. “Come again?” Bucky sighed in frustration and hauled Jemma out from under the metal shelf. She was in too much shock to resist and he was too strong for her to effectively fight, anyway.

“Can’t do things the easy way, can you.” Bucky muttered. Jemma wasn’t altogether certain whether his statement was directed at herself or not. Once straightened, Bucky leaned against the shelf to relieve pressure from his leg.

“Oh, sit down. You’re going to injure yourself further if you’re not careful.” Jemma chided. She ushered him over to the crate she had been hiding behind and guided him down. She fetched another suitable box for him to prop his injured leg on. Bucky smiled through a wince. She stepped away and put her hands on her waste. “I think I’ll just go and fetch you a crutch.” Jemma turned on her heel to make another hasty exit when Bucky’s voice stopped her in the doorway.

“I said that you are the love of my life.” A moment of silence.

Jemma closed her eyes. She couldn’t turn to face him.

“Now, will you please come here? We’ve got some talking to do.” Jemma’s muscles simply refused to cooperate. “Either you come over here or I’m hobbling over there. Don’t make me pull more of my stitches.”

The threat was enough to jolt her muscles into action. Jemma sat on the floor, safely out of Bucky’s reach. “There. I came.” Her heart continued to hammer against her rib cage, though it made a valiant effort to exit her body through her throat.

Bucky was silent for a moment, but when he spoke, his voice was soft. “You kissed me.” Jemma jerked her head in a semblance of a nod. “Then you ran. I want to know why.” Jemma bit her lower lip. She wrapped her arms around her middle and squeezed as tightly as she could to stop the tears from coming. She simply couldn’t make herself speak. “Jem...” Bucky groaned as he lowered himself to the floor, maneuvering his body so that he could wrap his right arm around her. “Talk to me, sweetheart.”

“I love you.” Jemma finally admitted. If not for his enhanced hearing, Bucky might not have caught it. A wide grin spread across his face for a moment before it was replaced by a look of deep concern. His hold on her became lax. “I’m afraid.”

“Why are afraid?” Jemma heard his self-accusation in his tone.

“Oh, stop being so bloody self-deprecating, James.” Jemma muttered. “I, quite frankly, don’t care that you have a prosthetic arm – it’s actually quite fascinating, really. And your past does not scare me. I’m not afraid _of_ you. Don’t be ridiculous.” Bucky held her close.

“Then what?”

Jemma looked away. “I’m afraid _for_ you.”

Bucky frowned. “I’m afraid I don’t follow your logic, sweetheart.” Jemma sighed in frustration. She twisted to glare at him.

“The last time I cared about someone, they...died. They died, and I couldn’t do anything to stop it.” Jemma made the painful emission as clinically as possible and then looked stubbornly away.

“Agent Triplett.” Bucky murmured softly. Jemma bit her trembling lower lip, even when Bucky gently turned his face towards him.

“I couldn’t handle it if you...if you died. I couldn’t, Bucky! You can’t die!”

“Sweetheart, I’m _really_ hard to kill. I should know. People been trying to kill me for a while now, and they haven’t succeeded yet.”

“Bucky...”

“No, don’t ‘Bucky’ me with those big gorgeous eyes of yours.” Bucky said, leaning his forehead against hers. “I can’t promise that I’ll never get hurt. Hell, I can’t promise that I won’t die.” He gently squeezed her shoulder when she shuddered and tried to pull away. “I wish I could, but I can’t. But that’s part of life, even in the world outside of S.H.I.E.L.D. And, yeah, the thought of losing you makes me more scared than anything in the world ever has. But that sure as hell isn’t going to stop me from loving you every second that I have on this earth.”

Jemma managed a watery smile. “I’m still scared.”

Bucky nodded. “I know, sweetheart. And I know there’s nothing I can do to take that away. But I can share that burden with you. If you’ll let me.” His eyes, gazing into hers, were so tentative and loving that Jemma felt herself nodding without her permission.

“I do believe that would be acceptable, Sergeant Barnes.” Jemma whispered shyly. She wiped a tear away with the back of her hand. Bucky caught another with the pad of his thumb as he slid his right hand around to cradle her neck.

“Now we are going to have ourselves a _proper_ kiss.”

Jemma’s budding grin was cut short but she was certainly not going to complain. After a long minute, she pulled away, entirely flushed. Bucky chuckled at her expression. Jemma gasped. “Your stitches! Good heavens, I completely forgot all about them. You just wait right here, Bucky, I’ll be back in a tick. And don’t you dare move!”

Jemma paused at the door. She looked over her shoulders and grinned. She ran back to press a quick kiss to his lips and was gone.

The best laid plans do go awry, Jemma supposed as she sprinted towards the infirmary, but perhaps that wasn’t such a bad thing after all.


End file.
